Like a bat in a china shop
by Nico and Lucien
Summary: As long as I can remember, people called me strange or thought I'd need help. They're wrong, all of them. Ok, I might be a little bit completely blind but that's no problem. And then I got involved in Beacon and my life became crazy like a squirrel on caffeine. But unlike me, you're able to read for yourselves. I hope you'll enjoy.
1. The day I got rewarded for murder

Phoneme 1: The day I got rewarded for murder

I always hated situations like this. To me it felt like trouble wanted to be around me, although it has never been worse before. Trust me, almost nothing is more annoying than being the chief suspect in a crime you didn't commit. But that's life, I guess: my father dead, I was falsely accused of murder and the true culprit was running around freely. The past two days I spent in custody and spoke to a lot of lawyers and investigators like many times before, so as this elderly woman came in I thought she'd be another lawyer. Then I noticed her sound. Her body moved way more confident than a lawyer's and I heard her posture being more... powerful as if she was someone who's giving orders, not taking them. And yes, I _heard_ this. Maybe I should introduce myself first: my name's Giannini Pipistrello, 19 years old, I was told that I've dark hair and I like all kinds of mechanisms. Plus, I'm blind. Funnily I didn't know this for the first years of my life because my sense of hearing is special. Thanks to it my brain can create an image of my surroundings using the least bit of echo available, so technically I see with my ears. I found out as someone tried to explain the concept of light and colours to me. And no, I'm not a faunus. So, let's get back to the story.

The woman sat down an the vacant chair in the interrogation room and began to talk. "Hello Giannini, my name is Mrs. Albus, I'm from IKARUS." Her voice was soft but cold as ice. Yep, she was definitely in charge. I considered explaining my situation to her but she had something like a folder with her, probably this Mrs. Albus already had all the information. So I decided to test my luck by being defiant.  
"Never heard of it. Another law office? Let me guess, you are the best of the best and you'll try to keep my penalty as low as possible?" To my surprise, the woman smiled. Not a lawyer, then. They hated it when I made fun of them and I have bugged a lot.  
"Almost", the woman answered, "we are an intelligence service and we want to recruit you." That was different than what I expected. I was prepared for another way too long interrogation but I didn't see this coming.  
"How comes? Was the Vale police stupid enough to send the wrong form? Cause all they tell me is I'm guilty of something I didn't do." Maybe it wasn't the most clever thing to insult the police but I was angry and maybe I thought this was a hoax because I've never heard of this IKARUS before.  
"I know you're innocent. You'd never kill your father with just a knife. You're a gearhead, according to your neighbourhood. By your hand the method would have been more interesting." Ok, the woman was weird. "Here's the contract, Giannini, read it and you'll find all the information you need to accept or decline." I just began to laugh. I took off my round sunglasses to let her see my dull eyes and smirked at her.  
"You are probably the worst intelligence service ever. Investigating my hobby but not finding out I'm blind. Seriously, you guys need to do your homework more carefully." You should have seen her face. I can't describe it but it looked confused in a dumb way. This is the fun part about insulting someone in a way they don't expect. Throw a custard pie and the receiver will get angry or will laugh wearily. Throw a cheese wheel and the audience will be completely flummoxed. The cheese would be wasted, though.  
"Well, sorry, my men didn't tell me that. It basically says that a partner of me grants you board and lodge as long as you work for him as a mechanic." I put on my glasses.  
"Are there any other options?"  
"You could as well go to prison for murder."  
"I guess that's a no, you're basically blackmailing me. But I have one condition: I want you to find the murderer of my father." She nodded and took back the sheet of paper, leaving the room without a word.

I always hated aircrafts. Don't get me wrong, I hold no grudge against flying, it's the people that get on my nerve. Whenever anyone talked about the great view I thought 'thanks a lot, all I can hear is the interior. Pretty clearly, thanks to your prattle.' The people mostly didn't care about me. Some wondered whether I'm 'already to old to be here' but that was all and I couldn't care less about them. Wherever I was heading, I'd have a workshop there and now and then a job from the intelligence service would have to be handled. When I was young I always wanted to be a clock maker. Nowadays I think bigger. Weapons, armoured suits, all kinds of mechanical stuff. As long as it has cogs and gears, I'm in. Accidentally I heard my destination and sat there incredulous. The old lady's partner was Ozpin?! Well, at least I'd have lots of stuff to fix at Beacon.

As I left the aircraft I followed the crowd. In wide spaces not familiar to me I'm pretty screwed. I reached the building and suddenly I had a better field of perception. One of the biggest problems about being blind is being unable to read. I payed little attention to my surroundings while I pondered how to find the headmaster's office, so I eventually bumped into someone. "Sorry, didn't see you", she apologised immediately.  
"I should say that!" It was a girl, small, braided hair. That was my chance. "Sorry, I'm a little bit lost. Could you tell me how to get to the headmaster's office?" There was no use trying to find it alone, so this was the only reasonable thing to do.  
"Why do you ask?", she replied, "you can easily follow the signposts." Right, most people didn't recognise me as someone unable to see.  
"Nope", was my answer, "they're not written in braille. I really need help." She blushed instantly, I could feel it.  
"Sorry, I... of course I can help you with reading them. I'm new here too." This girl was a lifesaver. If it wasn't for her I would've never found the right floor. As I entered, there was a man and a woman. You now, I like Ozpin's office. It has style. The floor sounded smooth but beneath I heard the clicking and rattling of a clockwork.  
"Hello young man, how can I help you?", the man asked from behind his desk. My attention went from the room to the headmaster.  
"I'm Giannini Pipistrello, I was hired to work as a mechanic." The woman frowned, pretty clearly for my ears. If a frown could be loud, hers would be definitely.  
"But I waited for you at the aircraft", she stated, "I even had a sign with your name on it!" Why can't they inform each other properly? This was getting a nuisance...  
"I'm blind, for Monty's sake! But let me guess, they didn't tell you?" The old man just nodded. Maybe he was ashamed but I always had a hard time hearing emotions. He took a sip from his mug and I wondered where he'd refill it. There was no coffee-machine around. At least not in the open. He started to talk again.  
"As you can see..."  
"Haha, fat chance." Was he doing this on purpose?  
"...this is Beacon Academy. Do you have any idea how much stuff gets broken here?" Obviously, I didn't. Why should I? But the very sound of this room told me I wanted to be here. And I heard stories about the weapons of huntsmen... I always wanted to dismantle one and put it back together. "...and prepared a workshop for you." Wait since when was he talking again? I wasn't paying attention and his sigh told me he noticed. "I'll tell you again on the way to it. But first, here's your ID, you better keep an eye on it." Yep, he was definitely doing this on purpose.

Guys, I'll tell you something about being blind. As a blind person few things are more annoying than art, for example art class. Or people speaking about art. Especially those who say you'd miss something because you can't see the colours on a rectangular piece of fabric. I have no problem with not seeing them but I have a problem when someone tries to make fun of me. Keep that in mind, it may come in handy later.

The workshop I got was awesome. From the yard a small set of stairs led down to it and next to the door was a sign reading -according to Ozpin- 'Composing, Reconstruction and Repairs'. Inside was a big workbench, shelves with tools, scrap metal and dust samples for crafting. At one end of the room was a door to a small bunk and I could constantly see for the ventilation hummed. "When I get this for being accused of murder", I whistled looking around, "what do I get for being accused of a massacre?" Sadly, Ozpin understands irony and answered according to it... "A smaller room with less resources, I guess. So I recommend not to try." With a smile he left and I was alone in my new private workshop, awaiting the first customer.

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 **A/N:** This was the first chapter of Nico's story about the mechanic Pipistrello. I hope you liked it!


	2. The day I got burned for doing my job

Phoneme 2: The day I got burned for doing my job

I always hated fire alarms. You know, despite my ear's special condition I don't hear better than normal humans. Well, yes, I do hear better than regular humans but not the way faunus do. Sound's not louder for me, it's just different. But few things are as annoying as getting waked by loud noise that makes you hear your surroundings so clear that you start to believe your ears need glasses, which would look funny if I weren't the one wearing them. So you're perfectly fine to try. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I woke up by the noise of my fire alarm, wondering what the heck was going on. One of the good things about sleeping in a hammock is you almost can't fall out of it. So I was really surprised to manage it. As I stumbled outside covering my ears I heard the one causing this turmoil. It was the girl that helped me the other day finding Ozpin's office and she looked pretty harried.  
"Shorty!", I shouted, "would you please hit the switch next to the door?" She did, but nothing happened. "The other one, please!" She did and the room fell silent. You know, normally I don't like to shout, especially in small rooms like this. I may not be a faunus, but you may have noticed that I "see" better the louder it is but normal speaking or louder breathing is sufficient for me to orientate, so shouting or fire alarms make me "see" clearer than I want to. "Sorry, shorty, for the unclear order", I apologised, "I didn't find out what the other one does." And you may now think of me as stupid but imagine you were me.  
"That's the light switch", she told me immediately. And before you ask, yes, it was a little bit embarrassing for me. I took a mental note to connect this thing to the door's lock so the light goes on whenever somebody came in.  
"Ok, that's that. But what the heck just happened here?!", I demanded to know. At least the room was not messy. Not more than before.  
"I came in because of the service", she began gesturing, "then bumped against the workbench, something toppled down, I sneezed and exploded." I thought about how it must have looked like... but now I knew what vial the fire dust was in. It was always hard for me to tell the difference between dust so I started to keep it in vials I could distinguish. Unfortunately I hadn't made it here yet, so everything looked the same.  
 _'Sampling this stuff will be a fun afterboom'_ , I thought as I cleaned up the dust. I eventually managed to get all of it, after all the best workshop is one that's not burning to a crisp. She was still there, awkwardly standing in a corner holding a cylinder the size of a sailor's telescope, with a slightly bigger diameter. I excused myself and changed my clothes, as well as putting on my circular sunglasses, for I didn't want to work in pyjamas. Then I got to work. "So, shorty, what's it? Just three days in school and the weapons already broken? I'm proud of you." I sat down and caught the cylinder, whipped out my screwdriver and began dismantling it. And suddenly I had a bright moment. Yes, even I have those. "I... don't believe I know your name, shorty, I'm Giannini. And you?" Damn, this thing was amazing. Over the years I've developed the skill to subconsciously memorise the structure of the things I take apart so I didn't worry about not being able to put it back together.  
"I'm Anemone, member of Team Magnolia and this thing you tear apart is Hendel Bites, my sabre." I love the weapons of huntsmen, really. For a mechanic they're like presents: you never know what's beneath the surface. Hadn't I known the possibilities of dust-enhanced mechanisms I'd have never believed this thing could be a sabre.

"Anyway", I began to talk as I inspected Hendel Bite's interior, "why don't you have breakfast with your team? I don't know how long this will last."  
"I... don't know. I try to avoid my team..." I rose an eyebrow. Anemone didn't look like the type of girl who gets mocked, so I flatly asked her about this. It's really interesting how different people react to honesty. Some reward you for it, others blush and hedge. And then there's the type throwing raw fish at you should you tell them their beak looks stupid. Friggin' angry penguins. She... well she was honest, too. "No, they are super friendly it's just... they've known each other for a really long time and I'm the stranger girl." I chuckled and shook my head.  
"You won't get closer to them by hiding in the blind man's cellar. Buuut...", I ripped out a tiny piece of metal, "this thing jammed one of the mechanisms and doesn't look like an actual part of the weapon. Just let me put this thing together again." And as she activated her weapon the cylinder indeed changed into a sabre, the kind an old-fashioned general would carry, even with this cord thingy attached to the hilt.

"I bet this was Nightshade...", Anemone stated, swinging her sword outside of the shop. "She has fun bugging everyone, even our leader. But thanks to you Hendel Bites is combat ready again. Hey, would you like to come eat breakfast with me and my team?" It was really remarkable how quick she was able to change the topic. It reminded me of the holidays I spent once in Mistral and have I ever mentioned my love for cheese? Food is a nice thing, you know. You can deep freeze it, you can deep fry it, and you can -who would guess- also eat it, so I decided to come along to breakfast. But some genius thought it would be funny not to do any of the above, no he started to fight with it. I later learned that some third year student trailed a fourth year's coat, something about faunus discrimination again, while I think that no reason can legitimate the waste of good food. Seriously, do you enjoy flinging the stuff more than eating it? Cheesus... Anyway, in one corner of the hall three girls sat protected by tables and ate.  
 _'At least three of them know how to treat food'_ , I thought. As we approached them and Anemone cut a melon out of the air they noticed us and waved us over.  
"Ane!", one of the girls (I assumed she was the leader) called in relief, "we started to worry about you. You ok? Lab thought you could be ill." The girl wearing a lilac dress with scarf, Lab, just shrugged.  
"Hey, it was a possibility, Mirabelle", she added picking the grains of salt from a bun, "we didn't know the thorn that stuck in her leg after the initiation, so I'm just sayin'. But where were you and who's Mr. Sunglasses?" Before Anemone was able to I began to talk. But it's really hard to swallow a comment that is nearly coming out.  
"Mr. Sunglasses is the mechanic who just happened to fix Anemone's weapon." The last girl, Nightshade then, giggled suddenly.  
"So it really worked? Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a little piece of metal in the right place?" That... surprised me. With her skirt, short-sleeved bolero and elbow gloves I was convinced she'd never do something like filling one's shoes with jam.  
"Please don't be too mad at her, she's always like that after the holidays", the leader reassured me seeming honestly sorry, "you should have seen the prank she performed on Lab. Shoes and jam is all that I'm saying." So much for that. But I was relieved as Anemone had to laugh.

I ate and chatted with them while the fight went on in the background. Eventually I bid farewell recommending them to keep an eye on Ane because "thanks to her even a blind squirrel like me was able to find a nut." I believe this was the moment they realised me being unable to see. You should have seen their faces. I just _had_ to laugh and then... well, a disadvantage of my eye's state is that I couldn't tell the floor was wet and I slipped, tumbled and landed on some other student who's hands were on fire. Of course they hit my face. So this is what I got for helping my first customer. At least it looked funny, according to the girls...

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 **A/N:** You guys are just great. You should've seen Lucien's face as I told him this little spin-off already has followers. And Of course, if you like this story you may want to read our main story about Team NOBL. But who am I to say this? You're the readers and I hope you've enjoyed this little chapter.


	3. The day I got cheated by Death

Phoneme 3: The day I got cheated by Death

I always hated unheralded visitors. Just imagine you are the owner of a café. A very well-known café. In fact, it is so well-known that most of the visitors book a place in advance. It's a nice place. Do you see the pictures on the wall and the colours of the carpet? Good, I don't. But now imaging that one day nobody is expected to come by and you'd have a free day just for yourself. Relaxing, isn't it? But then, after you just went to the restrooms, someone's there and you have to work.

I learned that the burning hands belonged to a third year named Leto and were caused by dust, so no harm done to my face. I never understood how this works but as long as it does it's fine with me. On my way back to the workshop I remembered I had to sample the stuff and sighed. A day full of explosions and similar effects wasn't my definition of fun but it had to be done anyway. At least the girls accepted me as their friend and believe me, few things light up your mood as much as Nightshade's messed up humour. Lab, or Lablab if you want to use her full name (which would lead to your certain death by a certain scarf of a certain someone), on the other hand is nice without really wanting to. She is... I don't now how to describe it. You'll see eventually. And Mirabelle, well, she's the captain. I mean _the_ captain. Like a mother but less awkward and more friend than family. Seriously, you got a problem and she'll listen. As I returned to my workshop I was confused by noises and as I thought, I found someone rummaging around in my stuff.  
"What the heck", I demanded a little bit pissed, "are you doing with my stuff?! In my workshop?!" I felt like you in your café. What, you haven't forgotten, have you? Your customer is waiting, bring him the cake he ordered, I can wait. Finished? Good. I like working, I really do. But this guy made a total mess in here. "I ask you only once again", I was angry, yes, "why are you messing with my newly organised workshop?" The intruder seemed sorry, as if he didn't know anyone was working here. He slowly turned towards me and opened his hand. A broken gyroscope...  
"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was working here. The last years this cellar was only a storage for replacement parts." I was thinking... technically it wasn't completely his fault but...  
"You know what? Help me tiding up and sampling some stuff and everything is fine." He agreed and so we spent some time putting stuff back where it belongs. Eventually I began to talk, something I regret a little bit now to come think of it. Seriously, my life and my job for and at Beacon and IKARUS would have been much easier without him and his gang of troublemakers... "I didn't know there was someone at least partly similar to me here." The boy, I learned his name was Necros Charon -or Morrigan, depending on who you ask- and he has earned himself the nickname Reaper, didn't understand. "Might surprise you but I'm blind. You're wearing an eyepatch so I thought..." He interrupted me with a snap of his fingers.  
"Don't say it", and then towards the ceiling, "why, world, do you hate me?" At some point of time someone of his team told me that literally everybody had asked him whether his right eye is blind but at that moment I only understood that his eyes were working, both of them. So I did something clever.  
"So this thing is only for coverage and protection of the eye?" The Reaper sighed in relief. Suddenly, he began to laugh, quiet but happy.  
"Exactly! You're the first one understanding this so quickly. Blind as a bat but bright as a bulb! So, you said you need help with some stuff?" I wanted to talk, but his scroll buzzed. Whoever it was, this person chose the worst time ever possible. "Sorry Gian", Necros excused winking, "girlfriend." He answered and moved towards the stairs. I can understand that. The reception in my workshop is really poor. "Lucy, what's up?" And as I went up a few moments later he was gone. That friggin' third year tricked me, willingly or not.

So I had to identify the dust myself by triggering it. Believe me, you're better off with being able to distinguish this junk by colour. I mean even if I work mostly analogue something has to power the mechanism... But my saviour that day came, a scarfed one to be particular.  
"You look absolutely horrible", Lab greeted me after she switched on the light. That's one thing I like about her, this honesty.  
"Why?", I answered raking my fingers through my hair, "I can't see any flaws or stains on my appearance." We both began to laugh, of course. It just must have looked really funny, me sitting there with a sooty face, grinning and breaking icicles from my rumpled hair.  
"No, seriously", she grabbed a crate to sit on and pushed me aside, "let me do this for you. Just tell me what to put where." It was amazing. For half an hour I've exploded and were only able to label a few crystals. With her, I named the vial and she put some of the dust which seemed completely alike to me inside the flask.

"What is the headmaster thinking?", Lab snorted after work was done.  
"Why so upset?", I replied confused. You should get used to Lab. She's often complaining about things but...  
"No windows", she just answered gesturing, still sitting on the crate.  
"So...?" Interestingly, if you looked at her clothes you'd never imagine her spending time in a workshop. But there she was, seated on a box full of metal junk and replacement parts.  
"That's not healthy!", Lab huffed vigorously, "I can't believe this. Doesn't he know sunlight is important for the body? He surely doesn't want you to get sick, you're an asset for the students!" You see, she is complaining. Unlike sissies she's never moaning for herself, though. Many students call her a diva, snooty or a snooty diva but those don't pay attention to what she's actually speaking.

I laughed at the top of my lungs. Due to this girl's positively negative attitude my day was saved. Even dinner was relaxing. Except maybe for the fact that the Grimm-guy had the idea to feed his Nevermore by throwing bits of food to catch through the air. But if you find yourself in my position, in company of four girls, all of them charming in another way, you can consider yourself one lucky bastard.

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 **A/N:** Finally I wrote chapter 3. By the way, the third year students were OCs from the main story Lucien and I are working on together, Team NOBL! But I hope you enjoyed this chapter and feel free to leave reviews. ;)


	4. The day I got corpses by mail

Phoneme 4: The day I got corpses by mail

I always hated people messing around with my stuff. Unfortunately, messing with a normal blind one's is quite simple and there are some bastards who get some twisted entertainment from it. Luckily, I'm not normal, so I can put an end to the usual harassment pretty quickly and believe me, the dumbfolded faces of some guy thinking he isn't noticed is just priceless!  
But this morning was different. My workbench wasn't just a mess, nooo, a flippin' big -well, kinda big, as long as my leg and as wide as my forearm- crate lay upon it. With a sheet of paper. And I got impressed, as somebody did learn from the past.  
 _'Braille',_ I thought, examining the letter more closely, _'apparently from the old woman. Means work.'_ Enough people would sigh but not me. I basically live for my work right now, surrounded by top notch equipment just waiting to break down. I bet I could earn a fortune at the blackmarket with the plans of those unique beauties. But fortunately for the Old Guys Club -and just believe me- the small cellar of a school filled with more or less competent fighters is way snugger.  
And I couldn't believe my ears as I opened this little treasure trove. Some weapons, little pieces of mechanical armour, a mask and even a... she was not cereals... an _ARM?_ Mechanical, too, of course. And all of the stuff completely ragged but who cares. According to the letter I should only fix the arm, the rest was mine to salvage. Meaning: The day was close to being perfect, as long as I don't ask where the stuff has been.  
Well, and then Anemone came by and screamed the hell out of me. What's with girls that their throat is such a powerful organ, anyway? She was on her tour of bringing me some breakfast.  
I'm really grateful for the people here at Bacon. I've been working here for quiche a while now and some of the guys I hamed had noticed that I juice foregg to eat breakfast should work reach me first and made sure to bread me some every time I didn't a pear in the hall. If you might have noticed, I was hungry.

"At least you didn't trip off the fire alert this time", I rubbed my forehead as the sensory flood ebbed away. Connecting the door to the lights was one of the best ideas I ever had. Yet, it backfired at me cause Ane seemed to be slightly disturbed by the arm in my hands. And sadly she explained me why.

"Giannini... please tell me why you have lots of junk covered in crusted blood in your workshop."

So much for my good mood. I took a mental note to wash the stuff and to contact the Agency about this prank. This is what I've signed up for, yes, but not removing the blood because oh ho, the mechanic is blind. Fat chance, harlequins. Plus it was disrespectful to the stuff but who am I rambling at? Luckily my breakfast was still edible...

"Well, thank you for darkening my mood", I sighed, imagining the extra hours of cleaning my new possessions, "and the bloody stuff is a special order and replacement parts. By the way, thanks for treating me on breakfast. And you could save my life a second time..." Call me what you want to. Heartless bastard, egoistic idiot, selfish sucker. But because of my abilities to convince Anemone to help me clean the arm I prefer 'manipulative genius'. What? You don't believe me? Ok, I might have bribed her. What? OK, just stop looking at me like that! Truth is I had to promise to attend the meals regularly. You satisfied? Can I continue with the story? Thank you!  
So, as we were cleaning the arm (and I seriously don't want to know what happened to the stuff. I might ask in my report...) in my new shower, the faculty agreed on me that I should get an own bathroom and within days construction was finished, I heard the door opening and someone sneaking in. Only one person would act this way, trying to make as little noise as possible in my presence...

"Nigh, don't you dare touch ANYTHING, I can hear you." You remember what I told you at the beginning? Yep, this is the moment you should feel your memories kicking in. Well, in Nightshade's defence, she gets some kind of twisted entertainment from almost _any_ kind of prank she can pull herself without getting caught and without getting anybody injured.

"You are so no fun Giannini... To see things behind you is not fair!", she complained. It brightened my mood slightly. "Ane, lesson's beginning in a few minutes. You coming?" Riiight, students. Well, at least the arm was ready for repairs, so I thanked Anemone and sat down at my workbench. First I had to move the crate though... It wasn't as hard as I thought, once I moved the stuff piece by piece to where I wanted to have it.  
As work began, the problems came. I hat to fix a mechanical arm. Fine. But tell me one thing: How do you repair something you have never worked with before and have no idea what's broken? From experience I can answer this question. Most times you're screwed. So I did the best thing I could at that moment: I dismantled the thing completely and even labelled the pieces I couldn't distinguish. At this point I call out to you Atlesian engineers: you are geniuses. No, I mean it. Going through my mental 3D-blueprint of this arm I was amazed. And here comes the but: I had no friggin' idea what was wrong this thing! No gear broken, no part missing, I'm confused. So I took a walk.

You know, solutions might come when you least expect it but just staring at the problem is useless most of the time. The best thing I could do now was putting on my glasses and taking a stroll around the campus. It actually works pretty well, as long as I stay near the walls. And indeed, as I walked around I somewhat ran into my solution: two fighting students. I heard sounds of combat and followed my instinct to check it out, one of the two was perfect to help me. I recognised the female combatant. Tall, long hair, gauntlets as weapon. Yang Ciao-somewhat, fourth year, famous for her short temper. But the other guy piqued my interest. He didn't appear to use a weapon but I wasn't fooled that easily. At least when it comes to this. You see, he _appeared_ weaponless but I heard something. Clicking and rattling, very quiet, coming from his body. From his _arm,_ to be accurate. So I did the most stupid thing I could and stepped in.

"Would you please stop figlumph", left my mouth as I was hit by something in the gut. _'Kinetic force',_ I remembered painfully, _'no echo...'_ One of the girl's shots found its way right into my sorry auraless body and I was smacked to the ground by it. Must've looked pretty funny, now that I think of it. At least the two stopped fighting to see if I was alright.

"Sorry man, I didn't see you", she apologized scratching her head. Never pick a fight with her, it's for your own safety. At this moment I was really glad not to be a huntsman. I mean, is it really so much fun to get your butt kicked for a living? I don't understand those guys... but as long as I'm allowed to repair their weapons, feel free to brawl!

"No problem, I'm still alive", I coughed, still not standing. I learned speaking is truly hard without air in your lungs so take this word of wisdom: don't forget to breathe. "You, prosthesis guy. Need your help, with me", I continued on my feet, still holding my gut. I decided to skip lunch, probably for the better.

"How do you...", he started. Judging by his face and his clothes I guessed he didn't show his arm's nature openly. But you see, I love startled faces, as long as it's not my own, so I didn't bother to explain.

"Less talking, more walking", was my simple but effective answer. He did start to follow me, introducing himself as Perdix and as he asked how I knew about his arm, I simply tapped my ears. As I entered my workshop I was relieved. Everything was where it belonged, the dismantled arm on the bench, piece by piece, not a single screw missing. After all, the Agency would toast me should I lose some of their property. "Tell the blind man", I noticed the students confusion concerning his task here so I did him the favour and began to talk, "what the fluff is broken? What's wrong with this arm?" He inspected the bits and pieces. Certainly he knew what he was doing. And the solution he presented to me was devastating as well as fascinating.

"Some of the wires are cooked and there are hairline fractures all over the gears. Better replace them."

This guy was good. He even told me where I could get the right wires and bowed out. So guys, always remember: sometimes you just need a punch to the stomach and some dude with a robot arm to solve your problems. And I learned one thing: cleaning mechanisms from blood is royal pain in the ass!

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 **A/N:** Here it is, chapter 4. Finally. The hardest part writing this story is the question "How could I put a spanner in Giannini's day?" or on the other hand side "How can I improve an otherwise terrible day?", though the first one is a lot more fun. I'm always grateful for feedback on story and style (since we all want to improve ourselves, won't we?) or even ideas, if you want. I hope you enjoyed ths chapter and I assure you, the next one will eventually come!


	5. The day I got a crutch

Phoneme 5: The day I got a crutch

I always hated competitions. Maybe I'm able to say this because I was never rivaled in my skills as a mechanic. But in my eyes all of this "I'm way better than you"-mentality is wasted effort of the mind. Just imagine how much more we could accomplish if everyone would just say 'I do my job and I do it well because I help people by doing so' instead of 'I'm better than you nahnahnah!' The world would be a friendlier place. Plus, there'd be less stupidity-caused headaches. Move a thought.

Anywhere, where was I? Right, in my workshop, carefully cleaning and dismantling a gun I got from the Agency. These occasions really were a bright sight of my job. I've worked many years for the Agency now, 100% of the time at Beacon. I've noticed how the attitude of the students changed towards me the older I got. I kinda miss the old times now that I look back, the teachers are… stiffer than their students. I start babbling again, don't I?  
Nonetheless, I sat in my cellar working as Nightshade rushed in, so I guessed she wanted me to notice her for once.

"Giannini, you gotta see this!", she exclaimed, obviously excited by something. Knowing her I speculated whether it really was something to be excited about or just some random case of 'Nightshades spectacular commodities', so I played safe.

"Nigh, contemplate the last four words that left your mouth and talk again". This slowed her down, luckily. You have to see, with comments of those kind I don't want to remind the people that I can't physically see, but I want to force them to think for two more seconds and to explain their thoughts. And the method I was using had proved to be the most successful in doing so. Also, it always lightens my mood.

"Haha, smart guy, you know what I mean", she started to talk again, "I just thought you might be interested in seeing two higher students in action. So you're coming or what?"

I practically had no choice, she dragged me out of my workshop before I could refuse. Not that I would've but you get the idea. More interesting to me was where I got dragged because my orientation went numb until we reached a large group of students circling something. And then I heard the reason: the clicking and clashing of metal. And then I understood Nigh's excitement. Don't get me wrong, standoffs between students were pretty common -and still happen once every week or so- but according to the huge crowd we had a rare occasion on our hand.  
It took a bit of the natural charme called elbows and feet to get through, otherwise I wouldn't have had a chance to percept anything except the crowd but… what? Don't look at me like that. If those guys couldn't take my elbow to the ribs they were hardly qualified to be at Beacon in the first place! Anyway, as I got through I immediately agreed with the rest of the viewers: we had a blue moon. Two of the most dangerous students of Beacon were trying to beat each other, Ruby Rose and that Necros-guy with uncertain last name. I couldn't resist to analyse their style and weaponry as good as possible.  
She: definitely specialized in the scythe. I mean, sure, she's renowned for her Ferris wheel technique, I don't have to tell you guys anything about her. He on the other hand impressed me more: slow, minimalistic, almost standing still and deriving her swings with slight movements of the barrel while at the same time trying to land a little poke with the hilt at her vital points. Even a bloody amateur like me could see that his preferred way of dealing with enemies was the 'sneaky-snipey-style' and melee was a mean to an end for him. But the situation turned into christmas as he fired in the air. The loading of the chamber, the clicking of the bolt-action lock and the ejecting of an empty shell told me something beautiful…

"This guy… his weapon is completely analogue!"

Dear Huntsmen, let's talk ammunition for a second. Most of you -and the world is grateful for it- use the not technically lethal kinetic-only type, to minimize the potential danger towards other human beings, or at least it seems so. I still have no idea how those dust-engineered projectiles work but fortunately I don't have to. I'm responsible for the equipment and everyone trying to repair a fired bean belongs to the looney bin. However, a gearhead like me would love to dismantle any kind of weapon and learn everything about its firing mechanisms, the more complex and more moving parts, the better.

Unfortunately in this special case that would never happen to me, as this guy was one of my few regulars who only search for replacement parts, never letting me touch their weapon. Seriously, I even tried to convince him he owed me for tricking me the other day by calling one of his guys 'girlfriend' as joke and not returning, to do the work for him but no, all I got was an 'if you ever need help'… Plus, I learned something from my poor intervention-attempt the other day: don't try to stop two fighting students, it's a health hazard and dumb as hell. So I just stayed there and awed the two combatants until someone I could stick to went back to the main building.

After strolling around for a bit totally without getting lost on the way, I intended the detour through the classroom building, I reached my trusty flight of stairs again. I entered and hit the lightswitch immediately. It has become something like a reflex over the time, I mean why would I need the lamps turned on without customers? It only gets a little embarrassing when said 'reflex' causes the lighting to be switched off unwantedly, for example after entering any other room than mine. It happens from time to time should I be the last one to enter the girl's room after dinner. But we found the bright side of it, at least the evening starts with a good laugh. At my cost, yes, but still.  
However, as I sat down at my workbench I noticed something different from when I left, some additional box laying around. I began to sigh annoyed but then I noticed there was no reason to do so. The gift ribbon was a dead giveaway, in case you wondered. Inside the box was a small tube and a note. I had no idea what all of this meant so I consulted the sheet of paper.  
'Do not dismantle', was all I read as my fingers ran over the note.  
 _'No shit Sherlock'_ , I thought shaking my head. As if I would salvage a present for parts. Well, except the ones intended for that exact purpose. Anyway, as there was no chance for me to find out the use of this present I had to attend dinner to ask the girls, I had a hunch this was their idea. And as it turned out I was right, the moment I stood in front of them confused with this little box in my hand Mirabelle collected high fives from both sides. Knowing they would explain eventually I sat down and filled my plate. I have no plan where these quantities of food come from or even where the kitchen is but my compliments to the chef, the food has always been top notch here.

"So you got the note and didn't take it apart", Lab was the first to talk, "so you owe me ten Lien Nigh."

…they seriously did bet on whether I'd tinker with the tube before knowing what it was. I mean, it would've been my first impulse hadn't I got this as a present but still, it kinda stung.

"Ignore them", Mirabelle pushed away their bet, "this is a gift from… well, technically everyone. It was Ane's idea to build something like this but a lot of guys you repaired stuff for helped designing, getting parts and building it actually. There's a magnet lock here", she took the tube from me and as the button was pushed it sprung into two parts, the man tube and a small ring, connected by some kind of wire or cord, "…which led you spin the whistle. You switched to draught again, didn't you?" She sighed, actually justified, and handed me the thing again, "just try it out and you'll see…"  
And without a comment for a change I just did. It really was a kind of whistle 'cause as the rotating tube gained speed it began to emit a soft, deep hum which widened my clear field of perception. I was stunned by the ingenuity of these students and the trouble they went through just to say thank you. I even kept myself from being snippy the rest of the evening. With this brilliant new addition to my tool belt it was less of a problem for me to navigate through open spaces from now on but strangely bees seemed to be more attracted to my whistle. Though maybe I could find a way to train them to attack people should they start to annoy me. You know me, I always manage to find the bright side of life eventually.

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 **A/N:** Finally I got Phoneme 5 up and running. I actually got the idea with the whistle from an old anime movie and thought 'could be helpful'. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and stay tuned!


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